


kissing is the worst remedy (but a pretty good distraction)

by viciousracket



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Home Alone, I Love My Babies, Ian helps by kissing bless him, Kissing, M/M, Mickey being a pussy, Ouch, Shameless, aka I have an ulcer, inspiration can come from anywhere, mickey has an ulcer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24037225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciousracket/pseuds/viciousracket
Summary: Mickey looked down at him incredulously, like he couldn’t believe Ian had the cheek to even ask, as if the younger boy could read minds. “My ulcer!” He almost cried, and reached up to pull his bottom lip down, showing Ian his battle wound.Ian stared at him for a long moment and then burst into laughter. Mickey was not impressed. He pulled out of Ian’s grip and stepped backward away from the bed, still holding down his lip. “Stop fwucking awound Ian! This isn’t fwunny” He groaned around his fingers.OR, big brave Mickey Milkovich has a mouth sore.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	kissing is the worst remedy (but a pretty good distraction)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sure when this is set entirely, but definitely after mickey comes out, and i guess it kinda fits whenever, but when i was writing it i imagined it season 4/5 era, if things had gone better :,)
> 
> i just love the boys acting like.. boys? it seems like they hardly ever act their age in the series!!

Despite the ice that covered the streets below, the small room felt stuffy and warm, crowded with too many beds for the space, and filled with indicators that the four walls had seen a lot of life. Ian lay on his small bed, contemplating Liam’s empty crib in the corner of the room, where Carl used to sleep, and wondering how so much had happened since he was 14 and sharing with his two eldest brothers. It was almost unbelievable looking back on everything he’d been through in only 5 years, that so much had already happened in his short life, and he’d never really stopped to look back at it before. 

Warm light pierced through the pane of glass that sat next to Ian, and gave the room a strange orange glow, the streetlamp outside amplified by the white of the clumps of snow that had been haphazardly swept to the side during the day, only to be replaced by freshly fallen layers in the early evening, soundproofing the whole of the Southside.

Ian lived for nights like this, when the world felt so still and quiet he could pretend he was the only one on earth, that the voices in his head had finally decided to leave him alone, that he wasn’t trapped in the Southside anymore. He’d tried so many times to escape, but the iron hands of poverty pulled you back every time, no matter who you were, no matter who you wanted to be.

It would be different this time, Ian told himself, this time he wasn’t trapped here alone. This time he had Mickey.

“Yo, Red!” 

Ian smiled, and glanced away from the window he’d been staring out of and down the hallway where Mick was standing in the bathroom, the light of the small room the only source in the otherwise dark hallway.

“Yeah, Mick?”

“You wanna come here a second?” Mickey’s voice was muffled and distracted, like he was holding his mouth open in front of the mirror.

Ian stretched his arms behind his head. “Nope.”

“Firecrotch! Come here!”

“Mick you’re gonna have to come to me, I just got comfy!” Ian shouted back, relishing in the fact that he could. It was rare these days that Mickey and Ian found themselves at the Gallagher house, with it being so crowded, and there being no room for Mickey and Ian to have to themselves, Ian only ever really came round when he needed to stock up on clothes, or to say hi to the others. Tonight though, by some miracle from God, the house was empty, Carl and Debbie at their friend’s houses, and Fiona round Kev and V’s with Liam.

“Get your lazy ass up and come in here Army!” Mick yelled from the hallway, and Ian crossed his legs in protest.

“Babe, I’m not movin’!” He laughed, and a grin broke his face when Mickey’s head popped out from the bathroom.

“Okay princess, I’ll come to you.” Mickey snapped, rolling his eyes as he made his way through to the bedroom. At this, Ian sat up and turned so his legs were planted on the floor. When Mickey got close enough Ian grabbed the front of his tank and pulled him close.

“If I’m the princess what does that make you huh?” Ian laughed when Mickey ducked away from his kiss, trying to pull back from Ian’s attempted embrace, “Awh, is my Pwince feeling a wittle fwoggy?” Ian cooed, “Do you need a kiss to fweel better Pwincey?” 

“Fuck off Ian, this is serious.” Mickey said, trying and failing to surprise a smile.

“I am being serious Mick. I seriously want a kiss.” Ian replied, and huffed when Mickey dodged his advance again. “The one night we have a whole house all to ourselves you decide to go Virgin Mary on me Mickey? No fair.” Ian pouted, looking up at Mickey from where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“If you’d just listen to me I could explain why I can’t kiss you right now!” Mickey laughed, flicking Ian’s bottom lip that was sticking out.

“Okay fine, what-“ Ian started, but Mickey interrupted.

“It’s so painful Ian! Man, why doesn’t anyone talk about how painful they are? I’d choose to get pistol-whipped over this any day, why doesn’t anyone tell you how to deal with ‘em? I’ve had ‘em my whole life, obviously because I get in so many fights an-“

“Mickey!” Ian reached up and clasped a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth, “what the fuck are you talking about? What’s painful?”

Mickey looked down at him incredulously, like he couldn’t believe Ian had the cheek to even ask, as if the younger boy could read minds. “My ulcer!” He almost cried, and reached up to pull his bottom lip down, showing Ian his battle wound.

Ian stared at him for a long moment and then burst into laughter. Mickey was not impressed. He pulled out of Ian’s grip and stepped backward away from the bed, still holding down his lip. “Stop fwucking awound Ian! This isn’t fwunny” He groaned around his fingers.

Ian only laughed harder and leaned forward to pull Mickey back in, pushing his head against the shorter boys chest and tried to stifle his laughter.

“I’m sorry babe,” he apologised, his smile still firmly in place as he reached up and took Mickey’s hands away from his mouth, holding them in his own. “I’ve told you before though, that it’s not the fighting. It can’t be this time anyway, you haven’t been in a fight in weeks!” 

“And whose fault is that Ian?” Mickey reprimanded, and Ian snorted as he remembered what a slug he’d been the last month. The new meds had taken a while to adjust to.

“I don’t know why you’re blaming me! Not getting in fights is normally considered as a good quality you moron,” Ian replied, pulling Mickey even further towards him and looking up, so his boyfriend was towering above him. It felt strange to be smaller, but safe. Safe, like he was protecting Mickey while Mickey protected him.

“Whatever Gallagher, if it’s not from me fighting then what is it from?” Mickey asked, already knowing what Ian was going to say.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know Mick, I’ve told you so many times it’s because you bite your lip so often. It’s no wonder you haven’t bitten it clean off at this rate.” Ian chuckles, and brought up a finger to stroke Mickey’s lip, quickly bringing it away again and hissing when it Mickey sunk his teeth into it. “Ouch Mick!” He laughed.

“Yeah okay Nightingale, since when the fuck do you know so much about fuckin’ mouth sores?” Mickey asked, leaning in closer to Ian, so that Ian’s head was pressed further into Mickey’s stomach.

“Since…” Ian began, but quickly gave up and instead picked Mickey up and pulled him down again so the boy was straddling Ian’s waist.

“What kinda faggy shit is this?” Mickey asked, but his question was empty of malice, and he fell into Ian’s embrace in spite of his words.

“I’d say I get to be as faggy as I like with my boyfriend Mick.” Ian teased, and Mickey pulled back from where his head had rested on Ian’s shoulder.

“You’d say, would you?” He smirked. Ian leaned in for the third time, and missed again.  


“Baaabe!” He groaned, burying his face in Mickey’s neck.

“I’m serious Ian! I really am! This shit fucking hurts! Kissing is for gays anyway.” he teased, knowing full well he enjoyed kissing just as much as Ian did.

“That’s exactly why we should be snogging right now.” Ian replied, deadpan, and actually whined when yet another attempt at swopping in and stealing a kiss failed, “You’re such a pussy Mick!”

“I’m the pussy? Who’s the one tryna be all loved up right now? Huh?”

“Come on Mickey, you never know, maybe my saliva has magical healing powers,” Mickey scrunched up his face at that, and looked down from up on Ian’s lap to see his boyfriend making his stupid puppy eyes. “Please?” 

“Oh for fuck's sake Red, I am in pain right now! It’s morally wrong to pull that shit on me.” 

“…”

“Y’know I could haul you back to that AIDS bar right now and find you some old geriatric if you want a kiss so bad!” 

“…”

“Ian!”

“…”

“Oh for-“ And Mickey finally gave in, leaning down to a suddenly grinning Ian and closing his eyes just as their lips met.

It still amazed Ian that every single kiss he shared with Mick was still as magical as the first. That day when Mickey had wordlessly challenged him by coming back to the van. Hadn’t needed to use words to tell Ian what he felt.

Maybe back then it had been too early to tell, but Ian had known that day, when Mickey - The Mickey Milkovich - had come back and kissed Ian. Sure, he had known it was just because Mickey had been jealous of Loyd, but it had come out of nowhere. After so long of just hooking up, hanging out, and wishing they could be something more, Ian had been ready to give up all hope.

But that was Mickey, full of surprises, full of facades and walls. Full of secrets that only Ian knew, that only Ian had been allowed to be let in on. Being around Mickey felt like being in his own world. When they were together, it was just Ian and Mickey. Against the Southside. Against the Bipolar. Against the meds and their soul-crushing side effects. Against the world.

Ian surged up to Mickey, forcing his tongue through into the other boys mouth, marking territory that was already his. That he already owned. That he already knew like the back of his hand.

Mickey made fists in Ian’s jumper, and lifted himself up on the younger boys lap for better leverage, using gravity itself to deepen their kiss. The very forces of nature bringing them together.

For a while it was just that. Mickey sat on Ian’s lap in a dimly lit room, surrounded by baby toys and undone laundry, riding their thousandth high like it was the first time, because when they were with each other it always was. No matter how many times they kissed, no matter how many ties they swapped spit, swapped sweat, swapped cum, Ian always, always, felt the thrill as if it was their first time all over again.

At some point Mickey gently pushed Ian back onto the bed, never pulling away, and rested his weight against his boyfriend. It was only with Ian, when they were alone, that Mickey was ever truly himself. 

Ian grappled behind Mickey and held one cheek in each hand, forcing him further up his body, so eventually their mouths were ripped apart, and they lay there panting, Mickey into ginger hair, and Ian and a sweaty tank top. 

“How does it feel?” Ian asked once he’d regained his breathe.

“Hard Ian. It feels hard as fuck.” Mickey replied, pushing himself up on his forearms and looking down his own body to where Ian was looking up. “Wanna do something about it smartass?” He smirked.

Ian laughed and pulled Mickey back down so he could kiss him again, drowning himself in the sensation of Mickey. Everything Mickey. Mickey’s smell, Mickey’s feel, Mickey’s taste.

“I meant your ulcer Mick,” Ian giggled, “How does your ulcer feel?”

“My ul- my ulcer? You’ve got my dick practically hanging right in front of you and you’re worried about my- yeah it’s painful Firecrotch, I told you, I’m sacrificing myself for your pleasure right now.” 

“Uh-huh, okay Mick,” Ian said absently as he leaned over to pull the thin curtains shut, “Well you never know, just because my saliva doesn’t have magical healing powers, doesn’t mean my cu-“

“Shut your mouth and drop your pants Harry Potter, and we’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks 4 reading! all feedback welcome =)


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